


Threads of Fate (and Christmas gifts)

by sammyspreadyourwings



Series: 2019 DL Stocking Stuffers [12]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Christmas, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, Knitting, M/M, Multi, christmas gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22323823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyspreadyourwings/pseuds/sammyspreadyourwings
Summary: Roger worries if John and Brian will like his homemade Christmas gifts.
Relationships: John Deacon/Brian May/Roger Taylor
Series: 2019 DL Stocking Stuffers [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583506
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	Threads of Fate (and Christmas gifts)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Runningfortocome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runningfortocome/gifts).



> Another stocking fill!

Roger tosses the half-wrapped box under the bed, the wrapping paper tearing as he does so. He winces but then shrugs, his wrapping is awful anyway. For a moment he thinks that his paranoia got to him – a heartbeat later he hears the door push open. He runs a hand through his hair and double-checks that his surprise is hidden. A few scraps of wrapping paper remain visible, but they have all used this paper.

When he doesn’t hear a greeting, Roger frowns. He rubs his eyes and ruffles his hair, attempting to make it look as though he is freshly woken from a nap. A little more to hide what he was doing. Not that John and Brian would pry into their gifts ( _yeah right, they’re dogs with a bone when it comes to presents)_ , and he suspects he hasn’t been called down because they’re hiding his own presents.

Although he wishes he had finished wrapping them. It had taken longer than he thought to fix Brian’s gift, mostly because he had to run out and buy a skein of the same color because his has mysteriously gone missing (and he suspects Freddie stole it for a cat toy). Either way, both gifts are finished, no longer unraveling and nearly wrapped.

Now the trick is making sure this relationship lasts until Christmas. Roger doesn’t doubt that it will, but it never hurts to hope.

“Roggie!”

He smiles, it sounds like John and Brian stopped at a pub.

“One moment, Brimi!”

Roger takes one last glance around the room. The boxes are well hidden, and while he can spot the end of the wrapping paper, he doubts that it’ll be needed tonight. He steps out of the room and closes the door softly.

“Hello then,” Roger says as he steps into the living room.

Brian turns as he enters, a drunken smile plastered on his face. Roger follows the tiny grabby hands and carefully wraps his arms around Brian’s waist, guiding him to the couch. He can hear the tap running in the kitchen.

They settle down with him almost completely in Brian’s lap. He braces himself for the inventible moment they both end up on the floor.

“Lookit!” Brian says, waving one arm wildly towards the tree, “more gifts.”

He looks at their tree. It’s large and full and he can already see the collection of pine needles underneath it, joining the needles are several brightly wrapped gifts. The presents from the three of them lean against the back wall, considering they won’t be exchanged until after the 25th. There are new ones too, wrapped in shimmery gold and silver paper and one wrapped in bright red with tiny gingerbread on it, which he guesses must be going to their (John’s) niece.

“They’re lovely,” Roger says.

_They must’ve tipped the clerk to wrap them._

“Remember,” Brian hums, “the Christmas we spent together first in?”

Roger stares at Brian, trying to puzzle the sentence out in his head. A drunk Brian cares not for the rules of grammar (and arguably a sober Brian doesn’t either).

“Our first Christmas?” Roger clarifies, at the exaggerated nod he asks, “what about it?”

“We promised each other that one day, we’d have a beautiful full tree and the bottom overflowing with presents.”

Roger remembers it, although most of his memory is hazy and stained by eggnog. He is sure he has pictures of them hiding out in the stall somewhere. However, ending the night on the floor with the new blanket his mum had knitted for them whispering promises of the future is the one thing that is completely clear.

“I think we had plans for a different sort of family back then,” Roger smiles softly.

Brian and he had always mentioned children, although clearly, things have gone down a different path, as he stares at the tree, he supposes it doesn’t matter what those words had intended.

“True,” Brian shrugs, “but we’ve made it. I think this is the largest tree I’ve ever had.”

Then Brian wrinkles his nose as he recalls how he lost another fight with John over buying an artificial tree.

“Oh hush,” Roger runs a hand over the scrunch in his nose, “one of these days John will get tired of proving he can cut down a tree and settle for a fake one.”

“Are you saying I’m compensating, Rog?”

Roger looks up to see John walking slowly with two glasses of water. The flush on his cheeks is proof enough that he isn’t sober despite him using large words. He smiles softly, Brian loses his words and John gains them when they’re drunk. Funny how the world works.

John kisses him, mostly missing his mouth, but near enough that Roger understands the gesture. Brian greedily takes the glass, splashing Roger in the process. He rubs the water into the denim before reaching up to pull John into a proper kiss.

“Welcome home, have fun shopping?”

“It wasn’t the worst time,” John replies.

He sits down on the couch and drains his water. The glass goes on the end table and he wraps around Roger, not pulling him from Brian’s lap, but at least now he won’t end up on the floor when Brian gets too excited.

“Bri and I split up for most of it,” John explains, “we grabbed each other’s gift and then one from each of us to you, and I got Julie and her family theirs.”

“Mm. Sounds exhausting, that’s why you stopped at the pub?”

“Yeah, we ran into Tim, funnily enough. Grabbed a few drinks, on empty stomachs.”

Roger clicks his tongue in mock disappointment, “what are you, twenty?”

“About ten years ago, yes.”

“Has it been that long?” Roger muses.

“Seven years, this spring,” John answers.

“Well, think you can keep Bri occupied while I finish something up?”

John nods and quickly takes his place when Roger stands. He pops his back and tries to not think about how old he is getting. He has been over thirty for a couple of years now, and he doesn’t feel as ancient as he thought he would, but his back is starting to protest certain things.

“I’ll be back in a few moments.”

To seal his promise he kisses both on the forehead before hurrying back to their bedroom. They’re both too out of it to really question what it is he’s doing but a tipsy John gets curious and ends up poking around places he has no reason to be in. Roger scowls as he remembers how his surprise two years ago was ruined.

Roger pulls the box and the paper out. He already taped the lid together, but he wants it to be as much of a surprise as possible. He quickly cuts the roll free and tugs the paper over the box. There is a strip of white where the wrapping doesn’t touch. _Why is this so hard?_

He does miss the days when he could simply hand the person the gift because he couldn’t afford to spend the money to make it look pretty. Roger cuts another strip off and tapes it over the mistake. Then for good measure, he puts tape over the corners and the creases where he thinks an oh-so careful duo might try and peek.

Roger still can’t believe they managed to unwrap and rewrap their presents without him suspecting that they had done so, and he only learned because Brian has an atrocious poker face.

Now that the last gift is astrophysicist proof he slides it under the bed again to halt any questions he would get if he brought it out now. Satisfied, he stands and grabs a couple of hair ties from the dresser, in case Brian decides to fall asleep on the couch.

* * *

Christmas morning rolls around with little fanfare. Roger can hear John puttering around in the kitchen and Brian denying the morning next to him. He kisses a bare shoulder before sliding out of bed. He drops to the floor only to pull the two (poorly wrapped) gifts out from underneath it. Brian peers out from the pillow covering his head.

“Quiet,” he hisses.

Roger mumbles an apology and darts out of the room.

He tries to not feel embarrassed when he sees his two gifts next to the crisp corners of the others. He steals a bow from one of Freddie’s (he thinks) and covers up the spot on John’s where the paper had torn from being pulled too tight.

“Roger?”

“Coming, love.”

John has already made an impressive spread for breakfast, including his ginger pancakes, which Roger unashamedly fills his plate with. Then he stacks sausages around the edge.

“Brian still asleep?”

“He is fighting being awake,” Roger replies.

He pouts when John steals a bite of his sausage from his fork, but then feeds him a second when John starts to pull away. They kiss (which is gross because morning breath and pork _do not mix)._

“Good morning,” John says.

Roger hums appreciatively when the second kiss is placed on his temple.

“You think Bri ever jumped on his parent’s bed at six am, just to open gifts?” Roger muses.

“I don’t think Brian has ever been excited at six am… or ten am,” John grins, “actually any time before noon is too early to be excited.”

Roger smiles at the image of Harold begging Brian to get out of bed so they can get their holiday started.

“Maybe if we took Red hostage?”

John shakes his head, “you’d lose the privilege of getting to mess around with her.”

“Like you don’t love it?” Roger shoots back.

Roger has seen Brian work himself into a state because he can’t find the guitar. It’s a moment in time that he doesn’t want to repeat (although knowing Brian, it probably will). John finishes setting up a vegetarian-safe plate (while Brian hasn’t _said_ he’s cutting meat from his diet, they have both seen his reluctance at eating animal-products.

“Place your bets,” Roger murmurs.

“He’ll be up soon,” John replies, “he ate an early dinner.”

“That’s true.”

With the Brian problem solved for now, Roger focuses his attention on eating his food. John’s cooking is a rare treat when he goes all out. A few minutes later John sets his own place down next to his elbow. Roger jostles with him for a few moments before settling down.

Fifteen minutes later they hear shuffling in the hallway and a quiet curse after a loud thud. John huffs and Roger rolls his eyes, hoping Brian had his eyes open partially. He grins as he sees Brian stumble into the kitchen, one eye completely closes and the other being rubbed.

“Morning, sunshine,” John quips.

Brian responds with a grumble and heads to the coffee which just finished brewing. He uses his large mug and allows his face to hover over it as he takes cautious sips.

“If it’s too hot, stop drinking it,” Roger says after the eighth time he hears Brian whispers about it being still too hot.

He bats his eyes at Brian when he glares. When he doesn’t get an amusing response he just goes back to his breakfast, shoveling down the rest of it. The excitement and realization that it’s Christmas morning is finally creeping up! Roger dumps his leftovers in the rubbish bin and sets the plate in the sink then bounces on his toes while waiting for John.

“I’m going to go sort the gifts,” Roger says.

It only takes him about two minutes, he doesn’t bother sorting the gifts that have to be taken out of the house but puts them in a pile under the window. Each of them has three big packages and a few smaller trinkets. Roger sticks his under the coffee table, they’ll be the last ones they open, just in case they don’t love it.

Brian brings in his plate which already has most of the veg picked from it. Roger laughs to himself, Brian doesn’t eat much but he eats quickly. John brings in the recycling bin and sets it next to the couch. Roger squeezes between them and crosses his legs.

“With us, Brian?”

“Mm.”

“John do you want to start?” Roger tilts his head.

“Maybe we should wait for Brian to wake up?”

Roger pouts as he stares at his gifts. He is curious to see what he has, usually, Brian and John go for the nonobvious gifts instead of getting him new vests and jackets (which he would like, but he gets so many during the holidays).

“Go ahead,” Brian says.

John picks up one of his smaller ones and tears the package open by puncturing a weak spot and tugging the paper off in one smooth motion. It’s a new bottle of polish from Brian. Roger goes next, ripping into his present with no care: John got him a glasses repair kit and a string to connect his glasses to.

“What’s this supposed to mean?”

“Wear your glasses,” John remarks.

Brian sets his plate to the side and carefully picks off the taped areas and slides the box through without tearing any of the paper more than necessary. Ah, right, Roger _had_ got him new lenses for his growing collection of cameras.

“Thanks, Roggie,” he says quietly admiring each of the new pieces.

Roger leans over and kisses him on the cheek.

They proceed through the gifts like that. John’s gifts all entirely predictable and practical, except for the collection of broken clock parts he and Brian found for John’s tinkering. Brian’s certainly had a theme as well, with a few new books on space and photography gear along with Roger and John’s combined gift of a new telescope which Brian spends a solid few minutes reading over the packaging (and making John and Roger nervous because they only know so much about telescopes and the salesperson said it was good).

“I love it, I’ll have to set it up for the meteor shower in spring if you want to come with.”

Not that he enjoys spending hours in the damp grass, but Brian makes it bearable because he won’t stop talking a mile a minute about whatever it was he was seeing, even if it is just light distortion.

“Of course,” John says.

“It’ll be fun!” Roger chirps.

Brian smile looks a little love-sick and Roger is certain that his face is matching that same gooeyness. John rolls his eyes fondly and leans over to kiss Roger on the cheek before kissing Brian on the lips. They get distracted by kissing each other for a few moments.

“Ah, looks like we’re done,” Brian says breathlessly.

Roger knows that was the opening to go back to their room and have Christmas sex. He shakes his head (hoping that he doesn’t ruin the mood) and reaches under the table to pull out the last two gifts.

“Roger, we had a limit.”

“Of how many we could buy,” Roger shrugs.

Brian doesn’t seem to have any complaints as he carefully extracts the paper from the box. It tears more than the others have, but soon Brian is staring at a blank clothing box. He looks up at Roger in confusion.

“I have a lot of those laying around,” Roger leans forward, “open it!”

John stops fiddling with his paper to watch Brian un-tape the lid and lift the gift from the box. The sweater unfolds, and now that Roger is looking at it, he thinks that maybe he made the sleeves _too_ long in fear of making them too short, the torso too. Brian tilts his head.

“It’s a jumper? A knitted one?”

Roger nods, “er, yeah. I,” he clears his throat, “I made it for you.”

After that John scrambles to open his gift and Brian to get the sweater over his head. It is baggy, but it’s a cute baggy. The blue is very pretty on him, especially since he added the dark gray as accents on the cuffs and collars. He turns to watch John examine his own sweater, this one is burgundy with matching gray on the cuffs and collar.

“It’s lovely,” John says, “thank you.”

Roger lets out a long breath of relief, “I’m glad you like it.”

“I don’t know how I always forget how good at knitting you are,” Brian remarks, running his hand down the front of it, “we always use that shawl you knitted for us.”

He doesn’t exactly advertise it, even though it is one of his primary hobbies during tours. They have _a lot_ of traveling time. It’s a miracle they didn’t pester him to figure out what he was making, because these were what he had been working on.

Roger laughs suddenly, “I thought I might fall to the curse again.”

“Curse?” John asks.

“It’s stupid, but if you start knitting someone a sweater, your partner specifically, you always break up just before it’s finished.”

Brian leans over and presses a kiss next to the corner of his eye, “as if we’d lose you.”

John places a matching kiss, “not willingly, at least.”

Roger blushes and covers his face.

“Ow!”

He looks to see Brian rubbing his arm and John looking mildly annoyed.

“You always tease me!” Brian pouts.

John pulls Roger to his chest, “yes, because it is fun.”

Brian attempts to wiggle into the embrace, but John keeps pushing him away with a socked foot (to add insult to injury, they’re Brian’s badger socks). Roger laughs when Brian gets the hint and just folds into himself on the edge of the couch, holding the sweater to himself.

“Aw, baby,” Roger stretches out his foot.

He laughs when it gets batted away. He puts it right back in Brian’s face who pushes it the other way again. Roger’s legs are spread wide, and with more coordination that he thought Brian capable of, Brian is suddenly in between them. Roger melts into the kiss and leans more heavily against John.

John scratches his scalp, stealing kisses whenever Brian pulls away for air.

“I think we should move this to the bedroom,” Roger sighs.

When he doesn’t get an answer, he cracks open one eye, “and _no,_ you’re not fucking in those sweaters!”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, leave your thoughts and comments below or come talk to me on Tumblr!


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